“How then?” He thought the question over for a moment or two and then quickly discarded it as a real possibility. “Take it from me, sir, the move _will_ be made. It _must_ be. You need have no qualms upon that point whatever. The move for which I am waiting will be the natural sequence—perhaps corollary is the better word—of Miss Delaney’s murder. It will be tedious and irksome—this waiting period, I agree—but at all events when I move I shall be _sure_. It is a comfortable thought—to be _sure_.” Sir Austin rose from his chair. “Very well, then, Mr. Bathurst, since neither Bannister nor you can advise any immediate course of action—I must bow to your joint decision and wait. Even though it imposes a strain upon my patience. I will inform the Crown Prince of Clorania of what has passed between us. Good-day.” He held out his hand to Bannister and then to Anthony. As he left them at the door of his room the Inspector turned to Bathurst. “What’s your point, Mr. Bathurst?” he said. “What’s this move you say you’re waiting for? I couldn’t follow your argument at all. You amateurs amuse me.” “I expect we do,” returned Anthony good humouredly. “But you’re asking me too much to tell you what the precise nature of the move will be. I’m not a clairvoyant. At the same time, though, I am quite willing to tell you something of at least equal importance—that is, of course, if you would care to hear it?” “What’s that?” “_The name of the person who murdered Sheila Delaney._” Bannister regarded him with a look of amazement mingled with incredulity. “What?” he exclaimed; “are you serious?” “Perfectly,” replied Anthony. He bent his head a little and whispered a name in the Inspector’s ear. Bannister gasped. “Never!” he declared. “You can’t mean it!” Anthony nodded gravely. “Good God!” exclaimed Bannister again; “you can’t mean it, Mr. Bathurst.” “I do—but it’ll be a very difficult matter to drive the charge home. Nobody realises that fact more than I. Think of the issues involved.” “I’m thinking,” said Bannister; “it certainly will be ‘some’ job! Well I’m damned!” He shook his head—still pondering over the amazing nature of Mr. Bathurst’s confidence. Chapter XXV Mr. Bathurst’s Patience Is Rewarded